Read Online Trouble at the Wedding by Laura Lee Guhrke - Free Book Online Page B

gleamed in the late afternoon sun, turning it from chestnut brown to deep, flaming red. She possessed the pale, luminous complexion that usually accompanied hair of that shade, though he couldn’t tell from here if her eyes were the usual redhead’s green. Nor could he discern if any freckles dotted her nose, but he could see that it was a nose so retroussé that one might call it impudent. Her mouth was lush and pink, with a wide, brilliant smile that made even Christian’s jaded, supposedly nonexistent heart stop for just a second.
    This was Rummy’s fiancée? This vibrant, vivid, luscious creature was engaged to that stiff, pompous ass? It was absurd, nonsensical, one of Nature’s great jokes.
    â€œYes, Mama?” She lifted her hat to shade her eyes from the sun, a move that shadowed her face and prevented him from any further scrutiny, but Christian knew he hadn’t conjured that face out of his imagination.
    â€œAnnabel Mae,” the woman called down. “Put on your hat, young lady, and put up your parasol! Sakes alive, do you want to get freckles? And what are you still doing down there? It’s less than an hour until suppertime. You’ve got to change.”
    â€œI know, Mama,” Annabel called back, tucking her parasol under her arm long enough to don her hat and slide in her hat pin. “I’ll be up in a few minutes. I promise.”
    She turned her back, returning her attention to the view of Staten Island and giving Christian the chance to draw a deep breath and comprehend what seemed incomprehensible.
    He thought of Rumsford the other night—of his flushed face and naughty-naughty English manner as he’d winked and smirked about having a tryst with a courtesan. At the time, Christian had found Rummy’s adolescent behavior both amusing and a bit repugnant, but now as he looked at Miss Wheaton’s hourglass curves and thought of her stunning face, he began to understand why the fellow was visiting courtesans. Any man engaged to this woman was bound to spend most of his time prior to the wedding night in a state of acute desperation. Did she realize it? he wondered.
    Christian studied her back a moment longer, considering, then he straightened away from the rail, smoothed his tie, and buttoned his jacket. It was time to meet the bride.
    A nnabel had never been on a ship before. The closest thing to it had been a rickety rowboat on Goose Creek, and that rowboat, along with about half a dozen more, would fit inside one of the lifeboats that hung along the sides of the Atlantic , with room to spare.
    This luxurious ocean liner was as unlike that old rowboat as a ship could be, and she was a long way from being the girl who used to row along Goose Creek and lay catfish bites. But she still wasn’t far enough away. Not yet.
    The correct prenuptial agreements had been drawn up and signed, much to Uncle Arthur’s chagrin. The final wedding arrangements had been made, her dress was pressed and ready, the flowers and the cake were in the refrigerated section of the ship’s stores, and the names on the guest list included Maimie Paget and Virginia Vanderbilt.
    Six days from now, she’d be a countess. Seven days from now, she’d step off this ship and into a whole new life. She’d be Lady Rumsford, and she’d live on an estate older than her country. Once married, she’d have control of her money, and she’d be able to do so many wonderful things with it. She’d run charities and help with the village school and hospital. She’d help Bernard return Rumsford Castle to the grand estate it had once been, and together, they would hold those lavish parties and balls of which her lawyers so heartily disapproved. Her children would have crumpets and Cornish pasties and English Christmas, just like in a Dickens story. More important, her children would have position and the respect that came with it.
    Uncle Arthur